Love's a funny thing
by Is0lde
Summary: Jonathan screws up his magicks again. Basically, this is a request-made fanfic where Andrew gets to be happy if only for a little while. [Andrew x Warren]
1. Everything's Jonathan's fault

**Chapter one: Everything's Jonathan's fault**

Someone once said, that from chaos comes order.

From Warren's experience, this was not at all true. That was just something that specific someone had said to comfort himself when things were really bad.  
Warren knew now that from chaos, _more_ chaos always originates. There just wasn't an end to all suffering and idiocy the world produced.  
And now, he was in the middle of all of it. There was nothing he could do to stop it. Nothing he could say to make it all go away.  
He had to face it head on.  
Sighing, he bent down and started picking up the mess from the basement floor.

It seemed _endless_.

---

After having thrown away almost everything that had been on the floor – old papers, for example, that hadn't been used for months – Warren went upstairs. Something told him he was needed up there... it could have something to do with the screaming and sounds of porcelain breaking against the floor, of course, but he preferred to call it intuition.

If downstairs had been chaos, upstairs was hell on earth. Jonathan was methodically going through every inch of the kitchen, trying to do God-knew-what, midst screaming like a madman and throwing everything he'd gone through on the floor, where it inevitably broke instantly.  
  
"What the hell are you doing, you moron?" roared Warren in a convincingly murderous way. "You're destroying everything!"  
Jonathan didn't even look his way. It was like he wasn't even present any more, and it was his carnal shell demolishing what little possessions they had.  
"Someone's clearly broken in here," he mumbled to himself, throwing yet another porcelain cup onto the floor. "Everything's... everything's gone."  
"Gone? What are you talking about? What's gone?"  
"Everything."  
"Yeah, I heard that," Warren said sardonically, grabbing hold of Jonathan's arm before he had a chance to destroy any more of their things. "Care to elaborate?"  
"Ouch! You're hurting me!" Suddenly, it was like Jonathan finally woke up to see what he was doing. "Oh, crap."  
"You could say that," retorted Warren, still sardonically and coldly. "You must have a pretty good reason for tearing apart the Lair like this. Please share."  
Jonathan looked confused. "Yes... someone's stolen my herbs. The ones I was out picking some days ago. The ones I really, really need for the next ritual... _thing_ I'm supposed to do."  
"Oh yeah. The one with all the riches being drawn to m... err, to us."  
"That one. Although, as I've told you before, it could have serious consequences. We could get sucked into a vortex or something. I don't know. I've never performed it."

"Yeah, yeah." Warren disregarded everything Jonathan had to say about the dangers of the rituals he had to perform. With the vast riches the expected, they could buy spare parts to build almost anything. And that'd really make things a hell of a lot easier. He was working on minimal budget, which pretty much meant stuff could go wrong any second. And that he didn't like. At all. "With the 'aaargh! We're being sucked into a vortex, and everything's Jonathan's fault!'... enough already, I've got the message, and I _don't care_."  
"Yeah. That's what's troubling me," mumbled Jonathan. "But since it's clearly not going to happen anyway, there's nothing to worry about. I don't have the necessary herbs, so... well. Let's just forget it."  
Warren grunted. "Never give up. Never surrender. You've probably just misplaced them. Where do we start looking?"  
Jonathan gave him a look, filled with badly hidden contempt. "What do you think I've been doing all morning, Warren? Spring cleaning? I've looked the whole house through, except maybe the basement, and I don't keep my herbs down there anyway. That air is way to damp for them."  
"Well then, maybe you haven't looked hard enough," sneered Warren.  
"Oh, don't start with me! What about that ever-so-important screw-nut, then? You still haven't found that yet!" Jonathan sneered back. "Besides, you and Andrew never help me out with anything. It's all about the two of you, isn't it? I'm just the freakin' sidekick!"  
Warren's eyes were aglow with hate and irritation. _This is just too much_, he thought to himself._ That little rat doesn't know what he's talking about._ "That's just ridiculous, Jonathan. We don't help because we can't. We're not the ones practising the magical arts, you are. What, you'd rather us spilling important liquids and meddling with your herbs – the ones you manage to keep before you lose them somewhere, that is – than stay out of your way? Would that make it easier for you?"  
Jonathan sighed heavily. "You know what I mean. I have no real purpose in the group other than obliging your needs, Warren. I'm tired. I haven't had a full night's sleep in weeks, and the two of you are just fooling around. Oh, don't think I haven't noticed," he said, annoyed, when Warren glanced at him with eyes wide-open, as though he couldn't believe what he was hearing.  
"Look, Jonathan, if you think for a second that I would..."  
"The two of you are the best of friends," continued Jonathan. "I'm always on the outside. Which maybe is the best thing for everyone, since I don't approve of what you did to your ex and everything. I don't like killing people for no reason. She was innocent, and you slaughtered her..."

Warren didn't hear what Jonathan was saying anymore. He simply wasn't listening. So _that's_ what he'd meant! Warren felt relief wash over him. Jonathan still had no clue, of what had happened between Andy and him, that fateful night not so many days ago. When he'd made that big, momentous mistake...  
He shuddered at the memory. He still didn't know why it had happened, what had lead to it, because everything about that night was clouded by the fact that he'd been extremely drunk. But he remembered holding him in his arms, wanting... wanting to...  
  
No. Warren threw the uncomfortable memories aside. Nothing had happened that night, nothing at all. Andrew was imagining things – hell, _he_ was imagining things. It's not unusual to blend reality with fantasy in your mind after such an orgy in alcohol.  
But if that was the case... if these memory-flashes were all fantasies...  
_Why was he fantasising about Andy?_

"You're doing the ritual," he said, his voice hard and cold as ever.  
Jonathan, who'd been right in the middle of accusing Warren of being a cold-blooded murderer and simply out of his mind, stopped, and looked at him, surprise easily read in his eyes.  
"You haven't listened to anything I've said, have you?"  
"No."  
Jonathan grunted. "Well, what the Hellmouth did I expect." He paused. "Now, the ritual... can't do it. Sorry, I can't, not without the correct herbs."  
"Don't you have some you can use instead of the missing ones?" Warren asked impatiently.  
Jonathan gave it a moment's thought. He looked at Warren doubtfully. "There is a way... to perform the ritual without the missing herbs."  
Warren lit up slightly. "Well, then. Ahead, brave Sir!" he said mockingly. "Do thy magic!"  
"But it's a high-risk operation!" said Jonathan quickly. "It could mean serious trouble if I screw up... and I'm talking very serious. Like, 'the world will never be the same' serious."  
"That serious, you say," Warren said, scratching his head.  
"That serious."  
It didn't take many seconds before Warren yet again declared: "You're doing the ritual."  
Jonathan tried to say something, but Warren stopped him. "No, shut up. You're doing the ritual, you hear me? I don't care how high-risk it is, I really don't. I – I mean, we – need the money. Nothing can stand in our way."  
Discouraged, Jonathan nodded silently. "Okay, Warren. I'll do it."


	2. Close distance

**Chapter two: Close distance**

Some nights, Andrew dreamt about not feeling anything ever again.

It would be pure heaven for him. All that he felt and sensed, all that would be gone, leaving him with a monumental ease. If he could just... just discard the things he felt, he could live a normal life, not having to worry about making a fool out of himself in front of him, not having to worry about revealing what he thought about him... it would be wonderful. Splendid.  
That was why he was thinking of asking Jonathan to help him out with removing all emotions. Not only would be free from the burden his love was – if it, indeed, was love – he would also become the greatest villain ever. No emotion? Well, great! He could do whatever he wanted, without ever regretting anything... without feeling remorse. And he would be the given leader of the Trio. Warren would obey _him_ for a change.  
And Jonathan, of course, if he wasn't already out of the picture.  
Of course, the mere idea of having the ability to remove emotions was ridiculous. Even he knew that. To be able to do that, he'd have to turn vampire or something. Emotions were part of being human, and he was most definitely human. He'd checked. Nope, no super powers. No cool outfit, and certainly no fangs.  
He was human. As human as a human can be.  
He was giving up. Giving in to the big darkness that was depression. This wasn't going to work out. Ever since the Incident between Warren and himself, he'd been pretty down in it. Nothing seemed to click anymore, and nothing made him happy. Watching Star Trek and hanging with the gang didn't quite suffice anymore, because now, for him, everything was so tense that had to do with Warren.  
_  
This is hopeless_, he thought, helping himself to another Coke. It was tepid. Quite disgusting, really, but there was nothing else to drink for the moment, because no one had gone shopping in a while. _I'd better just kill myself, or something. I'm of no use to anyone._

_If only I could have him to myself, just once. Just once. And then I could forget about him, or at least try to forget. It's hard to forget about someone who's around you all the time. But metaphorically speaking... yeah. Try to forget about my feelings, whatever they stand for._

Suddenly, he could hear someone coming down the stairs. He's parked himself on the sofa, where he spent a lot of time lately trying to avoid facing Warren.

_Please, don't be Warren,_ he prayed. _Don't... be... Warren._

Of course, it was Warren. One hand in his jeans and wearing a plain, ordinary shirt, he gave a very casual impression.  
He advanced forth to the sofa. Andrew could feel his pulse heightening, and hoped that his heartbeats couldn't be heard. If he had been able to without revealing anything about how he felt and what he was thinking about, he'd have run away as far as he could.  
"Hi, Andy," said Warren, sitting himself down right beside Andrew. "What's up?"  
_Here's for being nonchalant_, thought Andrew to himself. _Well, two can play that game... fortunately_.  
"Not much," he said, as calmly as he could without risking his voice shaking. "Just watching..." He gave the television a quick look, and then, he blushed violently. "The Teletubbies."  
But Warren just nodded. "They have their certain qualities. To bad they lack formidable villains. Look, I just needed to talk to you for a sec. Is it okay, or... would you rather watch 'til the show's over? I could get back to you."  
Andrew blushed even more than he would have thought was humanly possible. "No, I... I wasn't really watching, you know, so much as... err... looking in that direction."  
"I get you. So it's okay to talk, then?"  
"'Course."_ I don't think it's possible for me to make a bigger fool out of myself than I already have, so do go ahead,_ he thought angrily to himself.  
"I... I need to ask you something," said Warren, his eyes desperately seeking Andrew's in a way that surprised the latter part greatly. What was it he wanted, really? He seemed different, somehow. Maybe it was the attitude... no; it was the whole appearance of him. He was... softer, somehow. More forthcoming, more approaching and... eager, to talk to him? No, that couldn't be right. Warren had never been eager to talk to him, not in this way. He'd never sought Andrew up just to talk before. What was going on?  
"Ask away," he answered, as securely as he could muster. Better to go for it when the opportunity came than to ever regret it afterwards. This might be interesting.  
"I just... I wonder, do you sometimes... well, you know... think about me?"

Andrew felt like everything was spinning. 'I revolve around you!' he wanted to cry out, 'I do nothing in this life without thinking of you!'

Why was Warren asking these strange questions? And was it safe for him to play along, or was Warren just teasing him? He was so insecure, he didn't know how to act and what to say or do.

"Sure," he said coolly, "sometimes, I guess. Why?"  
Warren looked at him in a strange way, sort of like he was trying to really figure him out, feel his pulse. Reaching out to see how far the ground was, if he were to fall.  
"Well, I just thought..." He broke himself off, and Andrew could feel his knee against his, that's how close they were now. Warren had moved himself a great bit closer in the last second, and Andrew didn't think he could take any more of this close distance, or whatever you could call it. _So close, and yet so far away,_ he thought, unknowingly wetting his lips with his tongue. _This is bound to drive me crazy one day.  
_And then, Warren leaned forward and kissed him. It was a soft, slow kiss, almost like he was afraid Andrew would break away if he pushed to hard. Andrew could feel his own heart beat like a drum inside him, rhythmical, rapid and wild.  
_  
This isn't real_, thought Andrew, _this can't possibly be real. It's a dream, I'm dreaming again.  
_  
But he didn't wake up, like he usually did at this point when he dreamt. And he found himself kissing Warren back, like he'd never done anything else in his entire life. Like it was natural, normal.  
It wasn't. He knew it wasn't. But even so, there they were, and Andrew was enjoying it to its full extent.

_If this is a dream, it's the best one yet by far,_ he thought, carefully placing his hand around Warren's neck.


	3. Strange enough

**Chapter three: Strange enough**

Tiredly, Jonathan stood up from the floor where he, apparently, had spent the night. He looked around suspiciously.  
Right. He was in the kitchen. _Why_ was he in the kitchen? Why had he slept there, on the floor?  
"Something isn't right," he muttered, to no one in particular. Well, this was certainly an experience out of the ordinary. His back hurt like hell; apparently, tiles don't make good mattresses. What a great scientific discovery.  
He looked down on the floor, just beside where he'd been laying. Herbs? His herbs, nonetheless. What were they doing, laying here? Had he been using them before he went to sleep – or dozed off, which was probably more correct – or had someone else put them there?

Jonathan seemed to recall a row he'd had with Warren about something of the sort, but he couldn't place that event in a timeframe. Maybe it had been last week, maybe last month. Last year? He didn't know. All he was certain of was that those herbs shouldn't be there.  
He started picking them up from the floor. Frowning, he took out small glass jars from the shelf just above him, and sorted the herbs into them.  
He gave one of them a closer look. Wow. That was a powerful ingredient to have laying around on the floor. Very powerful, and very dangerous in the wrong hands.  
What was it you could use that for, anyway?  
Well, as far as he could remember, it could be used for multiple purposes, but one of the more common ones was when you transcended to other worlds. Well, _that_ wasn't what it had been used for, anyway. He'd have noticed if they'd been transported to a different universe.

Speaking of 'they' and 'them', where were they? The rest of the Trio, his friends – more or less so, anyway – were nowhere to be seen.

"Maybe downstairs," he said to himself. "Probably downstairs. They always hang out in the basement."  
_Not me, though_, he thought sadly. _I'm always somewhere else, doing something important.  
_He walked towards the stairs, and tramped down.  
When he was halfway down, he stopped, gasping. What he saw, he couldn't believe even with the greatest effort.

---

Jonathan was speechless. He found no words – no words where adequate in this context.

It wasn't like he was homophobic or anything. Nothing of the sort. But the sight was nonetheless shocking.  
Those were his partners down there – partners in crime, even. And they were... they were... kissing. Intimately, passionately, and whatnot. Holding each other tightly, so as not to let the other one get away.  
Distraught and confused, he went back upstairs, walking carefully so he wouldn't draw attention to himself.  
  
When he got up, he drank a big cup of disgusting coffee to clear his head.

That had really been sick. It was pretty mind-blowing seeing the people you live with and plan to take over the world with making out, when they've never shown any interest in each other before – well, at least Warren hadn't. The mere thought of the two of them together made Jonathan want to run to a galaxy far, far away and hide out for the rest of his life.  
Fortunately, he hadn't come in later. Else he might have witnessed something even more mind-blowing.  
No, he couldn't think like that.  
The thing he really had to focus on was how that could've begun – what could've made it happen.

Sure, the two of them had had quite a lot of time together when Jonathan wasn't around. Out for walks while he was doing magic, a stroll here, a stroll there... but it still didn't quite suffice.  
  
Yes, Jonathan could see why Andrew was interested in Warren. He certainly had his charms, although Jonathan had never seen him like that, of course. But Andrew...? What could possibly have attracted Warren in him? Granted, he wasn't exactly having any luck with the ladies at the moment, but had that immediately driven him into _Andrew's_ awaiting arms? It seemed strange enough.  
No, he just couldn't make it work in his head. Warren was most definitely straight.

Right?


	4. One more time

**Chapter four: One more time**

"Warren?"

Warren instantly stopped kissing Andrew, and looked at him, uncharacteristically shy. "Yes?"  
"You know, I think... I think I love you."  
It was so great finally letting it out, finally getting to say what he'd kept inside him for all this time. It was such a big relief, being able to be open and frank in this manner.  
Warren smiled. "I think I love you too. Otherwise I don't know what this tingly feeling inside me means."

Andrew repressed his urge to kiss him. It had to be Warren who took the initiative. Himself, he was still terrified that he'd be pushed aside, thrown into the ditch or something of the sort. He was still so scared of being let down.

Warren caressed him, his smile just as serene and sincere as before. Andrew had never seen him smile like that before, but he liked it. He _definitely _liked it.  
"Tingly feeling's good," he answered him, smiling back. "I feel it too."  
"Great, we're, like, symbiotic now." Warren laughed. "And you know what, Andy? You've got me," said Warren, suddenly looking very serious. "I'm yours."  
Andrew felt his heart jump inside him. _He's mine. Mine! He wants to be mine!  
_"And I'm yours," he said, clutching his hand tightly in his. "Don't ever let me go."  
"I won't," replied Warren, and kissed him again. "Never. I'll never let you go, not in a thousand years. If we get to be that old, that is."  
"Well, it's up to you, then," half-whispered Andrew, and kissed him back, "you're the one who's good with inventing things."  
"I'm the _best_ at inventing things."  
"And I'm not good at anything special," said Andrew midst kisses, "but that's okay."  
"You're wrong," Warren said, "you _are_ good at something."  
"What?"  
"You're a great kisser," smiled Warren.

---

"Wait a minute," Jonathan mumbled to himself, as his eyes fell upon the small glass jars upon the table. "Wait a minute here."  
What if his awakening on the floor had something to do with what was going on downstairs?  
  
He inspected the herbs and roots all over again, counting the contents, and going through every possible solution in his head. If he combined all of them...

No, he didn't recognise the recipe. Strangest thing, though... with just a few minor changes, these ingredients could be used to...  
He snapped his fingers. That was it! He'd tried to conduct a money-spell, but he hadn't had all the herbs needed.  
It was all coming back to him now. The fight he'd had with Warren about the risks with these sorts of spells being conducted wrongly... Warren, walking out of the door to take a walk, sunglasses and everything on so as not to be discovered by the Slayer and her friends. And Andrew, asleep downstairs, quite beaten.

He had screwed up _again. _They were now in some sort of parallel universe, where Andrew's feelings for Warren obviously were returned.  
He started trembling slightly. What the hell was he going to tell Warren? Like, sure, he could do a reverse-spell, and everything would be back to normal, but... the pair downstairs would still be in each other's arms, kissing, fondling.  
That couldn't happen. He had to break them up. But how?  
He thought for a second. Then he realised the obvious.

_Of course_. It was brilliant. That'd make them jump from their seats any day.

---

"Hey, you guys! The Slayer's coming!"

Andrew thought he was going to die from the shock. He immediately drew away from Warren, who was already up on his feet. They looked at each other briefly.  
"We'd better get upstairs," Warren said regretfully. "Don't think Jonathan can handle himself all alone against the Slayer."  
Andrew nodded, equally disappointed. "Yeah, I guess. No, wait!"  
Warren turned his head. He was already on his way up the stairs, but stopped.  
"What is it, Andy?"  
Andrew bit his lip, stressed out and nervous. "I... could you just... kiss me, one more time?"  
The thought had occurred to him that this might be a once-in-a-lifetime moment. It might never come again. After all, he'd been burnt pretty good only a couple of days ago, when Warren had disregarded their intimate night together, and that had been nothing compared to this.  
Warren smiled at him. Then, he ran back to Andrew and enclosed him in a tight embrace. He kissed him even more passionately than before.  
"Like that?" he whispered, that special smile still on his lips. They were standing so close to each other now that Andrew could feel his warm breath on him.  
"Perfect," he answered breathlessly.  
Warren let go of him, and they both hurried up the stairs. The moment was gone – back to the real life for the both of them.

Andrew felt like weeping.

When they arrived upstairs, Warren looked all around, but couldn't see anyone. "Jonathan? Where are you? And where's the Slayer at?"  
Andrew came up right after Warren, and looked around as well. "I don't see anyone, Warren. Maybe it was a false alarm?" _God, I hope so,_ he added in his mind.  
Warren shook his head. "No, Jonathan wouldn't do that. He's way to uptight. Come one, he's got to be..."  
Before he got the chance to finish his sentence, they both heard a voice coming from the kitchen. First it spoke words in some ancient language, and then, it finished with an all too familiar word in English.  
"Reverse," it said. And then, all went black.


	5. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

When Andrew woke up, he was laying face down on the floor.  
Confused, he turned his head, and saw Warren laying right beside him.  
He had no idea how he'd ended up there in the first place, but it sure was scary.

Things swirled around in his head like deranged butterflies. Memories... _were they really memories_?  
Warren's lips, pressed against his. Warren's hand, clutching his tightly.  
He imagined he still felt the taste of Warren. It was, of course, ridiculous.

They weren't memories; it was just wishful thinking. Dreams produced by a love-thirsty mind, body and heart.  
He sighed. Of course it wasn't real. It couldn't be.  
Because, why would Warren ever want to touch... or kiss... him?

"Hey, are you guys alright?"

Jonathan's voice. It was Jonathan's voice. Something, at least, he could know was true and real.  
He closed his eyes again. He didn't want to wake up just yet.

Maybe the dream would continue if he went to sleep again.


End file.
